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THE DEAD MARCH

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Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Oct 2, 1879

FromReview and Herald, Vol. 54, No. 15.

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“THE DEAD MARCH.”

By Eliza H. Morton

It is estimated that some one dies every second, and that a funeral train is ever marching to the grave. When one burden is lowered into the ground and covered with turf, another follows. When one heart forgets its grief, another is plunged in woe. When one eye is dried, another is blinded with tears. There are few dwellings that have not been visited by the black carriage with nodding plumes. There are few families that have not opened their doors to receive the casket with silver handles. There are few hearts that have not swelled almost to bursting at the sound of clods on coffin-lids. To many the tramp, tramp of the dead march is but the driving of iron hoofs into the soul.
March on, ye funeral processions, march on! The day is coming when your horses will refuse to go, your carriages will remain empty, and the voice of weeping be hushed. The leader of your train will be vanquished. A mightier than he will take the command, and at his word the tramp, tramp of the dead march will be exchanged for the tramp, tramp of the resurrected host. Songs of joy will burst from lips that were once white and cold. Crowns of life will adorn brows that were once wet with the dews of death. Harps of gold will glitter in hands that had long been mingled with churchyard dust. All hail, glad morn of eternal day! The gleams of thy glory even now gild the darkness of the tomb.
The broken beauty of earth speaks of victory over death. The clay-cold corpses of our friends will be re-animated with life. The same eyes will sparkle as of old. The same hands will grasp ours as of yore, and the same voices will greet ours as in the past. The same, yet glorified and made beautiful. The same, yet redeemed and made immortal. March on, O years! Tramp on, ye funeral trains! Your heavy tread will soon be silenced by the tramp, tramp of the armies of Heaven.
ELIZA H. MORTON.
Allen’s Corner, Me.